The Greatest Game Ever Flown
by st122
Summary: Sequel to A Cannon's Harpy. Set some years into the future. Harry is an Auror while Ginny is a coach and their oldest son is about to finish Hogwarts.
1. New Beginnings

_It has been years now: I've won many trophies, earned many accolades and a World Cup as well. I've raised two children and buried friends and loved ones. Yet a question is always asked and a single famous photo is always in the hands of a fan hoping for a signature. The photo is the cover of this book, a picture of Harry in his infamous Orange and myself beside him in my recognisable Green; the question always being how we met. Some people know a little, but only my intimate friends and family know the true story._

_I remember the day I first saw him, the real Harry, not the mysterious Quidditch star or Saviour of the British Wizarding World people knew and loved. I was still young with wide and starry eyes. In fact I had just arrived for my first training session with the Harpies. Gwenog Jones, my first coach, had dragged me to the stadium a month before the other players. A special training camp she'd called it, and Merlin was it special._

_I was still talking to Gewnog that morning when she signalled the arrival of my coach. My hopeful dreams of spending a month with a legend of Gewnog's calibre were dashed in an instant. I knew I had been pawned off to a sub-class assistant. Imagine my surprise when I turned to find Harry Potter walking towards me in a pair of khaki shorts and a green Harpies shirt._

_But I move too quickly. That part of the story is a beginning, but not the beginning. Our story starts years before that fateful day to another day known to every witch and wizard of Britain. The night a certain Voldemort murdered a family and tried to end the only prophesied threat to his reign of terror…_

Ginny dropped the quill in her hand and looked out across the lawn and up at the blue sky. It would have been fun to go flying.

* * *

2 Years earlier

* * *

The cold wind bit at of James' exposed skin. His gloves could only cover so much of his forearms and the outdated Gryffindor uniform, probably still from his mum's years, was horribly lacking in protection against the harsh climate of Scotland. The cold had already seeped into his bones as he raised a hand to adjust the frost covered goggles covering his eyes. Not for the first time he wished to be flying in the Quidditch league where none of the fields were this far north. With a groan he focused back on the game, more importantly the Golden Snitch that should be hovering somewhere in the space above the pitch.

Down below the Chasers and Beaters of both teams flew vigorously. The Quaffle passed between players with as much speed as could be expected from a school game, but remained slower than his mother and father fooling around in the garden on a Sunday afternoon. He let his gaze wander over the various players and his gaze focused on a girl flying at speeds his mother would call pedestrian, but for Hogwarts were blindingly fast. Her long ponytail rippled in the air. For a Ravenclaw she really was something. She alone would be capable of playing at a higher level. He would have to find the courage to talk to her at some point.

He sighed, knowing that he could not afford to lose concentration. The Snitch really was a pain to find. The task, as always, was made more difficult considering a general lack of sunlight and the downright miserable weather. Taking a deep breath he tried to remember the lessons taught by his mother and father. Repositioning himself he began to fly a search pattern while continuously scanning the sky before him. A small part of his mind always tracked the opposing Seeker. You could never afford to let your opponent get too great a head start.

The search dragged on and the score slowly began to look horrible for Gryffindor. His hands and fingers were so numb that he could no longer feel the broom's handle. It was not the first time that he wondered what the bloody hell he was doing up here this time of year. A book, warm fire and comfortable couch with a cup of hot chocolate would have been more enjoyable and relaxing. He licked his lips, almost tasting the warmth.

Something glittered. He blinked. The undeniable golden glint came again. He almost shouted out in relief as instinct or rather skills learned through years of backyard chases against impossible opponents took over. First he spotted the other Seeker to make sure that he was not closer. He was far away. With an exaggerated sigh and a small smile he plunged down towards the earth, falling even faster than the flakes of snow being driven by the gusty winds. The speed with which he fell increased rapidly, the small golden ball remained motionless. In the distance an irritating voice of a third year Hufflepuff broadcasted that Ravenclaw had extended their lead to a hundred and forty.

The ground came closer as the stupid Snitch fluttered into the middle of the pitch. James grimaced. There were few places he hated flying into. One of them was the middle of a heated battle between Chasers and Beaters. They were swarming all over the place and none of them ever looked up. It was downright dangerous for a Seeker.

The Snitch remained directly in his line of sight. Feeling confident he let go with his right hand. Through his palm he could almost feel the metal against his skin. His hopes were slightly dashed when the ball darted up and to the right. Pulling hard with his left hand and pushing firmly with his legs he managed to close the distance. He leaned forwards, the Snitch a few feet away.

Something hard slammed into his back. It knocked him slightly of course, but his fingers still managed to wrap around the Golden Snitch. His moment of triumph proved short lived as he slammed head first into an object too big to be a Quaffle or Bludger.

* * *

Lydia, limping of the pitch, closed her fist and slammed it against her right-leg. She bit back a pained cry. Her leg was going to be quite blue during the coming days. Couldn't the idiot look where he was flying? Her teammates walked in silence. The sombre mood only increased when William, one their Chasers, decided to open his mouth. "We were so close."

"Really?" Lydia muttered bitterly. "We never noticed." Ten points, that was all that was in it at the end.

He hung his head in embarrassment. She knew she had been rude, but did he really have to point out how close they had been to winning right after losing? They would have won if not for that stupid Gryffindor Seeker. He arrived at Hogwarts during his OWL year and since then it had become almost impossible to beat Gryffindor. The only way to win was to extend the score by more than one hundred and fifty, something that was not easy.

The team marched into their changing room and the girls moved to their magically enchanted side, the boys to theirs.

"I'm sorry," their Seeker called out from the boy's side. "I should have been closer."

"You gave him a good run for his money," she replied even though it was a lie. The boy had not even reacted instead he had still been floating in the clouds when James had slammed into her at speeds high enough to kill. She rubbed her leg absently, James really had been going fast. It had been one thing to watch from the stands, but up close it had been breathtaking. "Idiot," she said under her breath. "He'll kill someone."

"Yeah," the Seeker replied, disheartened. "But he has been signed by the Cannons, doesn't that make it a bit unfair?" It was a common argument since the end of last year.

"He's still a student," she replied. But she had to agree that it was like fighting a losing battle.

She sat down on her bench, the old soft wood creaking. There were only two other girls in the team. One was a Chaser the other a Beater and both were worn out. "Good game girls," she said to the two who were both in their OWL year. "You'll make a good team next year."

"We're nothing without you, Lydia."

She did not reply. Quidditch was Lydia's passion and dream. Being a professional was what she dreamed about ever since she learned about the sport as a child. She gently untied her ponytail and let her long auburn hair fall over her right shoulder. Her head rested against the wall while her right legged remained straight. It was already beginning to grow stiff, which meant a trip to the nurse would be needed. Luckily nothing had been broken or shattered.

Lydia closed her eyes. James had at least taken a Bludger to the back which would have hit her. He'd been so focused, so determined to catch the Snitch that he had lost sight of everything else. For a brief moment she had been able to see the intense blue eyes behind his goggles. Being that close to him in that final moment made it very clear why he had been signed already.

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room. Her teammates had already left as no one wanted to hang around after losing. She raised her hand and whispered a fake enthusiastic cheer. "Go Ravenclaw!"

"Lydia?" The name was spoken more as a question by an unfamiliar voice.

Her cheeks burned hot and her hand shot down to her side. She turned her head to the sound of the voice and was startled at the guy leaning against the wall. "Um… James?" Her hand moved over her face in a hopeless attempt to hide her embarrassment.

The Gryffindor Seeker pushed himself away from the wall. "Do you always take so long?" he asked, a guilty look on his face. "Or was your leg…"

"My leg is fine," she lied, cutting him off. "I was thinking about the game and where it went wrong."

He ran a hand through his hair and averted his gaze, looking oddly guilty. "Sorry about that."

"What are you apologising for? You won the game fair and square." She did not add that ramming into an opposing player was not considered polite, especially not after winning.

"Yes, but…"

"No buts," the words came out louder than she intended and it made him step back a little. She breathed out; it was almost a snarl. "Sorry, it's just been a long day and…"

"You were really close to winning."

She shot him a glare while wondering why everyone was bringing that up all the time. James, however, did not back away from her this time. "What are you doing here? You and your sister never hang around other people much."

He glanced away. "Well… I… you know… admired your flying."

She scoffed. "Admired my flying, Mr. Chudley Cannon?"

His cheeks grew slightly red and his fingers ran through the length of his messy black hair. "That's not completely fair."

"Why not? You were signed at the end of last year or were you not?" She crossed her arms and tapped her right foot against the stone floor while waiting for his answer.

"Yes… but I got lucky."

She laughed softly. "Do you really not realise how good you are?"

"Um…"

"Even your little sister kept us busy today and she's not even half as good as you. If she'd not been there then we would have walked over your little Gryffindor team."

He did not argue as there was no way he had failed to notice the goals his sister scored. His fists clenched slightly. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I should be heading back to the dorm."

He dug his hands into his pockets and trudged up to the school; dinner would be starting soon.

Lydia frowned and thought about calling out for him to stop, but that would hardly help. He vanished into the darkness. "Go Ravenclaw," she raised her hand in the air again. "I'm really going barmy."

* * *

"Harry!" Ginny called out as she dropped the papers in her hand onto the cluttered table.

"Hmmm." He poked his head around the wall. "Need anything?"

She glared at him. "I need a Chaser!"

"Not my problem." He gave an insufferable grin. "But I thought you solved that issue."

She narrowed her eyes. "You let them sign our son."

He laughed loudly. "What, do you want to sign him? Besides he is not a Chaser and I think that girl you found is actually pretty good."

Her lips thinned. "I'm just going to make as if I did not just hear you suggest that."

"Well then you should just wait for Lily."

Ginny shook her head. "Too long and I doubt that's what she wants."

Something hard clattered to the ground. "What?" Harry hurried over to the table. "When did she say that?"

She sighed. "She's never said anything, but I don't think that flying is what she wants."

He nodded slowly as he sank into the old and worn wooden chair opposite hers and then stared at the dwindling fire. The flames danced in his green eyes. "I think… I think I knew that."

"Are you angry?"

"No," he said with a small smile. "We've always encouraged them to do what they love."

"At least they don't have to fight murderers for a living." His smile grew tight. She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Sorry, I know it bothers you."

He looked up, green eyes hard. "And those idiots still won't accept that their precious leader is gone."

Ginny shivered. "How many more trips are you going to have to make?"

"As few as possible."

"That many."

He looked resigned. "People deserve a better world that I was born into."

"But do you have to change everything yourself?"

"No, but… but…"

It was the most painful part of her life, nights spent awake, wondering and waiting. Her hands enclosed his white knuckled fist. "I know."

* * *

"Hogwarts to James." Lily clicked her fingers before his face. He blinked in surprise then stared down at the cold half-eaten breakfast lying on his plate.

His eyelids fluttered briefly before his gaze focused on her. "Sorry. I was thinking."

"About a certain someone," she teased.

"What? No, why would I be thinking about a girl?" he stammered out quickly.

She tapped her chin as if in thought. "I don't know. Maybe the fact that you almost killed her."

"It was hardly that bad."

"That's not what I saw," she teased. "You rugby tackled that poor girl hard enough to make any man proud."

He looked indignant. "I did not."

"Did too and you didn't even use your arms. That's a red card offense." She raised her arm in the air as if holding a card. "Get off the pitch, you vile monster!"

"You know it was an accident." He lowered his voice, probably hoping to avoid garnering any more attention. Lily giggled. She knew she could be obnoxiously loud, probably the Weasley in her.

"Perhaps, but you were thinking about her, James."

He could not hide the slight blush. "There's no use lying to you is there, Lils?"

"Nope! I am the all-seeing sister. You should know that by now, brother."

He shook his head in amusement or disbelief. "Don't you have better things to be doing than pestering me?" he forced out, no doubt wanting to be left alone.

"Wallowing in self-pity and staring like a puppy is not going to get her any closer to you. You do know that, don't you?"

His eyes lifted to meet her gaze. "You know I can't."

"Why not?" Lily smiled. "Just go talk to her. I don't think she bites… I'm pretty sure she doesn't… then again you never know with all these vampire tales."

He grimaced. "She's busy studying at the moment. And she is not a vampire."

"Werewolf?" Lily tried. "They bite too."

"Not a werewolf either."

She huffed. "And how would you know?"

"NEWTs, they do teach us a few things after OWLs you know."

This was getting her nowhere. "I am sure a clever girl like her, being a Ravenclaw and all, can spare a few minutes of her day to talk to a guy." James went rigid. Lily exhaled, head dropping. She knew the real reason, or at least what his biggest excuse was. "I guess you don't want to lie."

A small flicker of anger crept into in his voice. "I doubt life would be much different in any case."

Lily leaned forwards. "Just because you use a different last name doesn't mean you have to push every person away."

He glanced to the side while probably sifting words in his mind. "I spoke to her, you know."

Lily inhaled sharply. "When?" It was the first time she actually felt excited about something in a while.

"After the game. I waited almost an hour for her to finish changing."

"And?" she tried to push.

"A complete disaster. I ended up walking away."

Her heart dropped. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad." His eyebrow rose slightly. "Huh. Well you never know, there might be time to rescue the situation."

"Is it worth it?" he asked mournfully. "I only have this year left in school and then I'll probably be too busy to date."

Lily grinned. "Mum and Dad managed."

James scowled. "I don't want to think about them, not now."

"You know their reasons. But at least they're both safely at home now."

He relaxed; he could never hold something against anybody for long, especially not family. "So what are you planning on doing today?"

"Torture you," she replied innocently.

"James?" Lily looked up at the sound of the new voice.

"Oh, umm, Lydia," James just barely managed to say coherently.

She clutched a book to her chest as if to ward against something untoward, like Lily's evil brother. "I wanted to apologise."

"For what?" he asked, his voice returning to something resembling normal. "I can hardly think of anything for you to apologise for."

Her feet shifted nervously. Some Ravenclaws were watching the interaction; most were sniggering. Lily wanted to call them a bunch of prudes, but a few Gryffindors acted even more childishly. It caused Lydia to stammer a little. "Well… you know… I was a bit upset after the… the game and might have come across a bit… umm… rude."

"No," James replied. "I was the one being rude."

"No you weren't."

Lily decided to interject. "Why don't you both just agree that you are both rude and unsociable?"

"I am not…" James and Lydia both began together and stopped when the other realised what was happening. Both pairs of cheeks went slightly red.

Lily jumped to her feet and began walking away. From here on the two should be able to figure things out, for better or worse. Right now Lily had Ancient Runes to think about.

* * *

Harry lay low against the ground beneath the deck outside a partially broken house that held more than a few horrid memories. Small pieces of dirt and rock fell between the cracks from the floorboards above as two wizards walked out from the house.

"What are we doing here?" one man asked.

"I fear the walls within the Manor no longer report to the owner," the younger man replied, though anger laced every word. "Former faithful no longer bend to our will."

"Little profit in such endeavours these days."

"No, the profit still exists. They have been brainwashed with ideologies people like my father fought against."

"Foolishness," the older replied.

"I see it now. It is even clearer to me now than when my father spoke to me. Purebloods need a strong leader that will take them to new heights."

"I am not sure you are such a man? Those years in Azkaban will not sit well with Magical folk more informed of Muggles."

"Yes and no," the younger man replied. "But the public will see a man changed. A man who learned from a father's mistakes."

"Have you learned from those mistakes, Draco?"

Harry gripped the wand in his right hand. Despite the years, Voldemort's wand had never grown warm to the touch. It was as cold and merciless as the day he had won it from the previous owner. Not for the first time Harry wondered if he should retrieve the Elder Wand. It was his after all and could hardly be colder than the monstrosity he held at the moment. Then again that wand had probably slaughtered more innocents than Voldemort's.

"I believe I have."

"Patience is my advice. Haste only led to years in Azkaban," the older man cautioned.

"Unfortunately that does take more time."

"I will talk to those still willing to listen."

Twin pops signalled their departure from the forsaken house linked to a lot of trouble in this country.

Harry grimaced beneath the deck. Draco had learned to guard the words he spoke even when in company he trusted.

* * *

"Lily!" An arrogant voice called from behind. Lily clutched her book to her chest and continued walking down one of the long stone corridors of Hogwarts towards her Fifth Year Charms class. "I called you, Dursley!"

That made her stop. "What is it, Malfoy?" she spat out. The platinum blonde idiot stood leaning against one wall, the all too familiar cocky grin plastered on his face.

He pushed himself away from the wall arrogantly and swaggered towards her. "I still can't believe they let Mudbloods into the school like you."

Lily straightened, the truth so tempting, but she restrained herself. "At least my father isn't locked away in Azkaban for life."

The boy's face clouded over with anger. "My father and grandfather fought to rid the world of Mudbloods like you. Besides they were released a week ago."

Her lip began to quiver with rage, but a large, gentle hand on her shoulder held her back. "Leave it, Lils."

She did not face her brother. "Did you hear what this idiot said, James?"

"I heard. Twenty points from Slytherin and detention tonight, Scorpius." James' firm voice filled the corridors.

The blonde scowled. "I hope you're happy that another lowly Mudblood saved you."

Lily heard James growl softly. "Forty points and two nights worth of detention. I don't think your fellow housemates will enjoy your stupidity."

Scorpius' face had grown red with rage, but the boy knew James was right. The Houses got on famously these days with only a few older families trying to stir trouble. "Just wait. My father will hunt down your Muggle family and kill them!" With that he turned and began to skulk away.

Lily leapt forwards, but her brother kept her back. "Leave him, Lils. He's all talk and no action."

"But he…" she gasped out.

James looked down at her with bright blue eyes, a strand of messy black hair hung across his forehead. "It's not worth the effort."

Another female voice was next to speak. "What is it with that guy and you two?"

James let his arm drop away from Lily before he faced the girl who'd spoken. "He just hates all things not pureblood, Lydia." He ran a hand through his hair just like their father. "I guess Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup for the past two years doesn't help."

"Loser!" Lily stuck her tongue out at Scorpius who was almost out of sight.

Lydia stared at them worriedly. She had only been friends with James for a few days, but they were spending a surprising amount of time together. "I know he has a big mouth, but he can still be dangerous considering his family and their wealth. Being Muggleborn you do not understand just how powerful the Malfoy family is."

James nodded. Neither he nor Lily needed any reminders of who the Malfoys were or still are. "I've been told a hundred times before."

Lydia's dark green eyes stared worriedly at James, but she said nothing. He faced Lily. "You be careful around him even though I know how quick you are with your hexes."

They began to walk away, leaving Lily alone and late for class. "Bugger! OWLs are going to kill me."

* * *

Ginny sat at the kitchen table after putting the kettle on the stove to continue repairing the tail of the Quidditch broom she'd wrecked. She'd ridden it a bit too hard over the last few days, but being home alone in the evenings had never been fun and the season was still in the early stages so it hadn't consumed her life yet.

Her thoughts were about to become melancholy when the front door opened. "I'm home!"

She sat upright then glanced at the clock. It was already ten. Footsteps echoed lightly from the entrance. It felt like an eternity before the figure entered the kitchen. Harry looked tired and his messy dark hair covered the familiar scar on his forehead. The usual grin was missing. He dropped his bags and opened his arms. That was all the invitation Ginny needed to hurry into them.

"It's good to have you back," she sighed into his chest.

She felt his lips press against the top of her head. "I wish I could wreck brooms like you."

She swatted his arm. "You know that's not all I do."

Ginny pulled back to see him smiling slightly. "So how is it going with the Harpies?"

She let out a long sigh. "You know it could be better." She followed Harry into the kitchen as the water began to boil. "As you know our Chasers need a lot of work."

"Lacking experience or talent?" Harry asked as he lifted himself up to sit on the black granite kitchen counter.

She frowned, thinking. "I had hoped it was only inexperience, but I am starting to believe that the talent's not really there. It's been a while since we drafted some new Chasers."

The kettle began to whistle and Harry automatically shuffled slightly to remove two mugs while Ginny retrieved the coffee and milk. They worked in silence for a minute.

"Any new prospects?" Harry asked eventually.

"I would have loved to sign James," she groaned. "But he's a boy, a Seeker, and the Cannons already stole him."

"You'll just have to wait two more years and then you can sign Lily." Harry's green eyes shone with humour even though they had both discussed that Lily would probably never fly professionally. "What about that Ravenclaw girl Lily wrote about? She seems to be a rather good Chaser."

Ginny nodded. "I sent a scout to go look at her during the Gryffindor match. She's definitely the best Chaser in Hogwarts at the moment. How that relates to talent in the league is something entirely different."

"Well there are three more games for you to scout. You'll be able to get a better idea before the end of the year."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not sure how good she is, but I have a feeling she'll be signed before the last game. So I have to make up my mind quickly."

He understood. Signing raw talent out of Hogwarts was rare; usually the Premier League teams would let a second or third division team take players in after school during the open summer trials. Once there, their talent could be better judged. When a particular gem was born, like James, the top teams tended to fight hard to get them. Lydia might just be one of those gems.

"Are you thinking about signing her before Christmas?" he asked quietly.

Ginny nodded. "She has a game against Slytherin next month. I will go watch in disguise as Hermione's guest. That should give me a good idea."

"Helps to have family in high places," Harry laughed.

Ginny blushed. It really was embarrassing how influential their family had become over the years. She was the head coach of the Harpies. Ron was the owner of Quidditch Monthly, the most popular magazine in the country. Hermione was Headmistress of Hogwarts. Percy was the Minister of Magic. Charles was Chairman of the International Board of Magical Creatures. Bill and Fleur were the highest ranking humans in Gringotts. The Weasley Wizarding Wheezes had grown into an international corporation, selling unique items to Wizards and Muggles alike. Gwenog had become the Chairman of the Quidditch League after stepping down as coach. At least her parents had managed to live quiet lives in the Burrow before passing away a few years ago. Harry, on the other hand, moved away from public life. He now led a small and special branch of Aurors, which included Muggles and focused on acts of Magical terrorism against the British Isles as a whole.

He shrugged. "It does?"

She sent a meaningful glare towards her husband. "You're not saying something. What happened?"

"It's been a long couple of weeks. The Malfoys are out and scheming, and there's always another idiot waiting to rise up thinking he can resurrect the fool or overthrow the government." His voice dropped and his eyes grew haunted.

"Can they?" Ginny asked feeling worried. "You know, resurrect him."

"I'm not aware of any magic that can bring him back." He looked up with worried eyes. "That doesn't mean there isn't a way."

She made her way towards him and ran a hand through the messy black hair that had been softened slightly by a few strands of grey. "I'm sure nothing will happen."

"I hope so."

* * *

James yawned loudly while still lying in bed. The sun had begun to shine through the open window. Unlike other mornings he actually managed a smile. It was a weekend which meant no class and a lot of free time. Of course, he should usie it to finish his homework.

Eventually he worked up the energy to kick his feet from out beneath the duvet. The cool air made him want to dive back under the covers. With some considerable will power he stood and shuffled to the shower.

As usual he was one of the last people to arrive at breakfast. The Great Hall was almost empty and he found an empty table far away from the remaining Gryffindors. He got some toast, which he ate with some bacon and eggs. He waited a minute before a familiar owl swooped in with his Quidditch Monthly, a gift from his uncle. Not that the gift actually cost Uncle Ron anything.

He tipped the bird with a large piece of bacon and opened it to the first article. He took a bite from his self-made bacon and egg sandwich. He grimaced; the Harpies had taken another beating the previous weekend. His mother's Seeker, Sandra, had apparently done well even though she failed to catch the Snitch. The Arrows, however, did have the best Seeker in the League. Not even the experienced Beaters could help the wallowing Harpies Chasers.

"Interesting reading?" the now familiar voice of Lydia asked from behind. "I should have guessed you subscribe." She sat without asking, something he'd gotten used to and oddly found himself enjoying.

He swallowed before looking up at her. "Reading about the Harpies game."

Her eyes shone for a brief moment just like any young witch hoping to play professional Quidditch. "They lost I'm afraid." She shuffled awkwardly.

"Do you want to read with me?"

She blushed slightly. "I… well I don't have a subscription and none of the Ravenclaws subscribe. It is not academic enough."

He nodded. "My aunt would say the same thing."

"Do your friends mind that I sit here?" she asked quietly.

He glanced up and down the table. "What friends? Besides, my father would ground me for a month if I let House politics get between friends." She gave a small smile. "I usually sit and read here on my own. I have to get through most before Lily steals the magazine from me."

"I can go… let you finish this."

"No…" he said quickly then paused. "I would like it if you went through this with me." He grinned almost evilly. "And if you lend it she'll be stuck without a copy for days."

She shook her head and slapped his shoulder, but she did shuffle so that the magazine was between them. "Merlin, they lost badly."

James could only nod. "M… Coach Potter is having some trouble finding a balance with her Chasers. Sandra is brilliant, but just not as good as the Arrows genius."

"Potter won right out of school." Lydia chimed in.

"Which one?"

Lydia giggled. "Both of them. They must have been something else. My parents went to watch some of their games." She flipped the page and James froze, there he saw an iconic photo of his mother, dressed in her Harpies green uniform, and his father wearing his bright orange Cannons uniform. His father's arm was wrapped around her waist and both smiled broadly. The photo had been taken after Harpies had won the League after four years of Cannon dominance.

Lydia reached out to touch the page. "This is such a beautiful photo. They are so perfect for one another. It's sorry that they stopped playing so soon."

"He became some sort of Auror and she started to coach the Harpies with Gwenog."

"Yeah." They flipped the page to find a short article about his mother's career as a coach. It was pretty good all things considered. She had coached the Harpies to five league trophies and managed another three with Gwenog. "

"Her records are pretty good," he admitted.

"She's amazing. I wish I could spend just one day being coached by her," she sighed wistfully.

He grinned. "You might get that chance one day."

Her head shook. "I doubt it. I'm not nearly good enough to play for the Harpies."

He almost choked. "You are by far the best Chaser in Hogwarts. If you can't make it then there is no chance for the others."

She stared down at the magazine and flipped the page. Thankfully it changed to an article about the Magpies. Lydia shivered. "I just hate this team."

James chuckled. "I suppose. Though I am a Cannons man myself."

She laughed. "That would have nothing to do with being signed by the second best team in the league."

"Second best?" he questioned. "As far as I can tell we did better than the Harpies last season."

"Better?" She scoffed. "We reached the final and you didn't."

He brooded for a moment. "We would have won if the Snitch hadn't acted up in the semi-final."

Lydia shrugged. "That was kind of unlucky I suppose."

"You suppose?" She smiled at his remark, dark green eyes full of amusement. "Haha, have a good laugh at me now."

"Well I have to say something now. Next year your clothes will be too garish for me to even look at you, let alone spend time with you."

He narrowed his eyes, but her eyes sparkled with mirth. It made him wonder if she had hinted at their friendship lasting beyond the confines of school.

"Breakfast is finished, Mr Dursley, Mrs Walker." James jumped at the sound of his aunt's voice.

"Yes, Headmistress. We were just reading and lost track of time."

She only smiled. "That is quite alright, but I do suggest taking your reading outside. It is a fine day after all."

"Yes, ma'am," Lydia stood hastily. "Especially after the past few weekends of bad weather."

James stood slowly. "Are you going to talk with my parents?" He whispered softly enough so that Lydia would not hear who had begun walking to the door.

"No, it is not my place. I only tell them the really embarrassing stories."

James said good bye and then hurried after Lydia. "What did she want?" she asked.

"Reminding me to behave myself before ladies."

Lydia's cheeks grew a darker shade of red. "She did not."

James continued to smile. She didn't, but he could read the warning in his aunt's expression. He had seen her staring at his cousins enough to know the look. Thankfully they were all older than him and out of school.

* * *

Lydia sat down beneath a large oak tree that grew within the magic borders of Hogwarts. James plonked down beside her. The magazine once again lay between them. "How long have you known about Quidditch?" she asked.

"Ever since I knew I was a wizard. My parents became rather smitten with the sport."

Lydia fought back a laugh. Imagining two Muggles going barmy over Quidditch was a strange thought. "So they got you hooked after you got hooked?"

"Yeah. My parents were good sportsmen in their day and so it sort of bubbled over into Quidditch."

"So what did you play as a Muggle?"

"I played football, but kicking a ball around is not nearly as fun as flying on a broom."

"I guess," she answered. "But it would be fun playing something else."

"Probably. Football is at least similar. Except there aren't any Seekers to steal a win away from the Chasers." His voice grew a bit softer. "The concept of the Seeker is a bit unfair in all honesty."

"No need to tell me. We lose each year because you snatch the bloody Snitch."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, but it's what I am good at."

"I know," she replied while playing with the long grass before her. "It's only frustrating to realise that hours' worth of hard work meant nothing."

"But I bet it is rewarding once you extend the lead by more than one hundred fifty and win the game."

She couldn't help the large smile. "Yeah, then you know you really thumped them."

He laughed with her. "So what do your parents do?" he asked.

Lydia chuckled a bit more. Normally she would've grown distant if someone asked personal questions. Luckily most Ravenclaws kept to themselves and their books. The more outgoing, popular students left her alone. Lydia was an oddity after all, a nerd that played sports really well.

"My father was an Auror, but got injured and now only does paperwork. He never talks about what he's working on. My mother works at the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes."

"That must be great," he replied. It sounded honest.

"She's just an accountant and doesn't do anything fun." Lydia had often hoped her mother would introduce her to the two famous owners. She would only say that she rarely saw them. James licked his lips and his gaze grew slightly distant, but said nothing. "So what do your parents do?"

"My mother is a sports coach and my father is a security consultant." The words left his mouth so quickly they almost felt rehearsed.

"I guess that's where your talent for flying comes from," she said quietly.

"Maybe," he replied as if he weren't a hundred percent convinced by her conclusion.

They fell into a comfortable silence. He didn't move to open the magazine and she did not feel like reading. It actually felt nice to sit outside with someone not from her House. Those times usually degenerated into in-depth conversations about Ancient Runes or Arithmancy. She enjoyed those talks, but she yearned to talk about her other passion as well.

"Are you busy next weekend?" James asked out of nowhere.

"I don't have anything planned," she replied, wondering why he suddenly brought this up.

"Um… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

She stiffened, then her head rotated slowly into his direction. "As in a date?"

His mouth opened, closed then opened again. "Ah… yes. I think… people refer to it as such."

Her stomach fluttered. "I think… I think I would like that."

His shoulders relaxed visibly. In the minutes she had been sitting and enjoying the time outside he had been fighting his nerves. "Great," he answered awkwardly.

Lydia also found herself very unsure of what to do now. Her fingers rubbed against one another; the piece of grass between them had long since disintegrated. The peaceful quiet from before was quite awkward now.

"Well… um…" he stuttered. "Do you want to finish the last few articles?"

"Sure?"

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Hi everyone._

_Sorry that this has taken so long to post and will probably take some time to finish, but I am posting to try and get myself to write more. I've got about six chapters written, but they need to be checked and fleshed out, but I've got each game of the Quidditch Season worked out for each team. I'm an engineer that loves spreadsheets so shoot me. My wife just shook her head, smiled, and called me a 'freak'._

_I've finally finished my Master's thesis, a part time effort that hung over me like a dark cloud for far too long. During the last few months of writing my Thesis my wife and I bought a house, so that chewed up large amounts of time and added stress. One of my team members at work resigned leaving me with more work. I also joined the local cricket club and managed to play for a half a season before old injuries forced me to stop. Hopefully my life can settle down for the next few months so that I can write._

_I know some people might be angry that this doesn't take place right after the end of the previous story, but I feel that that part of the tale has been told. This time period allows me to expand Harry and Ginny as they have new roles while also giving room for some other characters to have some fun on and off the pitch._

_Anyway, comments have always been a great source of motivation and this is a genre that I enjoy writing in as it generally makes me smile. So in the end of the day I hope this story will make you smile as well. (Not that every chapter will necessarily fun)_


	2. Dates and Troubled Times

_Author's Notes:_

_Hi, quick note before the chapter. I changed the Harry spying on Malfoy scene. My Beta, Socerer's Muse who really put in a lot of effort, showed me the error of my ways and so the scene changed. In summary: Lucius is dead and it's only Draco around to dream big._

* * *

"Walker!" Harry called from his office overlooking Trafalgar Square while rummaging around for lost papers. He'd demanded that the task force be moved away from the Ministry to a place more easily accessible for Muggles. More importantly Harry could work away from prying Ministry eyes.

A tallish man with copper hair and dark brown eyes walked calmly into the room. He had a slight limp, a present from a raid gone wrong when the man had been an active Auror. "Yes, Potter?"

Harry stared back down at his cluttered desk and continued to rummage through folders and rumpled papers. "Have you seen that file cataloguing the contents of Malfoy Manor?"

He heard a sigh. "It's all on your laptop. Don't you ever use the thing?"

"Is it? And I do use it." Harry dropped a pile papers which sent them sprawling across the floor. "Bugger." Then he promptly ignored them and flipped open the small laptop on the table. It took a moment for life to seep into the device, but soon enough he began rummaging through folders of a different kind.

"Need help?" Walker asked.

Harry shook his head and then immediately frowned. "You are horribly well organised, but I just can't make sense of your structure."

The man took a deep calming breath. It was usual. The two had been working together for almost a decade and despite appearances they actually worked well together. "It's rather obvious, Harry. I thought you would've figured this stuff out by now."

Harry felt the cool familiar touch of the somewhat cursed wand on his forearm. "I've always been slightly more focused on the business end of things, not paperwork."

The man leaned over the table, turned the laptop slightly, and began clicking through various folders. "We start at investigations, they are ordered by date and then a number. The number indicates the order in which they were filed that day. The number is followed by a description." He clicked again. "Malfoy Manor was investigated twenty five years ago. June I think." Harry nodded. "I thought so." Walker hummed softly as he scrolled down the list. "There, the twenty-third."

"Great," Harry clapped his hands together. "Thanks."

"No problem, Boss."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Boss?"

"You've been relegated to Boss for being annoying."

Harry snorted. "Be gone then!"

The man shook his head and left Harry alone, never once asking what he was after in the files. Honestly, Harry didn't know himself either and at times he had to sit back and wonder if his hatred for the Malfoys clouded his judgement. Nevertheless, he wanted to sift through that file again and perhaps he might find an item of interest.

Harry sighed, the conversation with Ginny, however, a few days back worried him. Could Voldemort really be raised from the dead? The dark items had all been catalogued and studied by Unspeakables, but not all the books and scrolls had been investigated, only documented. With Draco becoming the head of the Household and the family being free of accusations the Ministry had struggled to gain further access. Harry swallowed nervously as he carefully read the title of each book known to be within the libraries of Malfoy Manor. Yet more would have been hidden from prying eyes and he knew he had to investigate further.

Harry hit the print button and grabbed his coat. "I'm going to Hogwarts!" he declared before hurrying out of the office, no doubt leaving a bunch of analysts with curious expressions. When it came to books there was only one woman he really trusted.

* * *

James fidgeted nervously with the buttons on his shirt and struggled right up to the last one. He was not used to this. Hogsmeade meant a fun day eating chocolates and perusing the Quidditch store. Now he didn't know what was expected of him. At least he hadn't inherited his father's untameable hair. His could at least do what it was told even though he liked to keep it slightly messy. After a long two minutes of staring into the mirror he decided his appearance would not magically improve. The final check was to ensure that his Portkey was hanging securely around his neck. His hopes of slipping out the dorm unseen were dashed the moment he stepped into the common room.

"You look all neat and tidy, almost human for a change," Lily said the moment they saw each other. She sniffed his chest. "Hmm, It smells nice too."

"It is always respectable," he replied in a low voice. "Besides, nothing special is happening today."

She snickered. "Little birdies flittering about told me you have a date."

"It is not a date?" he snapped.

Her freckled face brightened. "So it is with someone. A certain someone who happens to be in Ravenclaw perhaps."

He had to be firm. "That is none of your business and it's not a date."

She giggled. "You protest too much."

He glared back, an action that never worked. "Are you going with a certain someone, for example Lydia, to Hogsmeade?"

He bit down on his lip. "You know too much for your own good."

"I try to make a habit of it. Dad taught us to keep a close eye on our surroundings, you know."

He couldn't argue. Their father had taught them a lot about self-defence and how to protect themselves in case of danger. "It's still not a date."

"Yes it is." She held up a single infuriating finger. "One person being joined." She held another accusatory finger. "By a second person and they head off alone." Her two finger wiggled as if walking. "Saunter off to Hogsmeade alone then it is, indeed, a date."

James closed his eyes, slightly annoyed. Lily could truly be unstoppable. "I really should be going." The words were mere mutters on his way towards the portrait hole.

"I know. You don't want to make a girl wait on the first date."

James scowled, and hurried through the opening and into the cold corridors of Hogwarts. The trip down to the entrance took forever and his palms were becoming moist. He kept glancing down at his shoes, pants and shirt. Each time something else would feel wrong, it was ludicrous.

"James," Lydia's familiar feminine voice called him over.

He glanced up and away from the clothes he knew to be fine. Lydia stood to the side of the entrance hall as far away as she could be from him. A few Ravenclaws giggled in as he passed them on his way to Lydia. His nervousness over possible wardrobe malfunctions vanished at the sight of her smile. "Sorry I'm late. My sister cornered me."

"I just arrived myself." She glanced away slightly, fingers intertwined.

"Well, shall we be off then?"

"Yes," she replied quickly. "The masses should be arriving shortly."

"Don't remind me," he laughed. "We better get into town before all the best chocolates are stolen by their greedy little fingers."

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "You like chocolate then?"

"Love it. Mum has to hide it from me at home. What about you?"

"I'm a girl," she said as if that answered the question.

He frowned. "Um…"

"That's a yes, James."

He breathed out. "Oh… good then we can stop to get some before… um… well…" He scratched his head. When in doubt revert to the norm, he thought. "Well I was hoping to go to the Quidditch store."

She gave a somewhat pleased smile. "I need some things there myself."

He coughed. "Well… that's good… I suppose."

They left the confines of the school and walked down the meandering path towards Hogsmeade. A few older students were around and eager to spend time with friends or special someone's. The younger students hurried about trying hard to rid bodies of sugars already consumed.

As it always seemed to be these days, the village proved to be rather busy. Travelling vendors with bright coloured carts lined the pathways to capitalise on extra sales from students eager to spend. The masses came as well, almost as excited as children to take part. Hogsmeade weekends really did make for a festive atmosphere.

It was a considerable walk and it passed somewhat awkwardly with only occasional comments about the weather or other students nearby. When they finally reached the town James realised that no destination had really been discussed and he'd could only remember them mentioning chocolates. "So… Honeydukes still seems rather empty."

She gave a firm nod. "Should make it easy to find what I want."

"Yeah, if you're late then it's just little kids everywhere." He grumbled softly. "Why did they have to allow first to third years to join the fun?"

"I know." Lydia's eyes narrowed. "I had to wait three years and now they come along and just grab everything in sight."

"No taste whatsoever," he continued feeling tension begin to ebb away. "No upbringing either. Kids these days!"

"Absolutely horrid of them." Her mock stern expression faded and her face brightened with a smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. In the sunlight he once again noticed more red in her normally dark auburn hair. It really was beautiful, almost mesmerising.

"What?" she asked and he realised that he'd been staring.

"Your hair… um… it's beautiful," he stammered out unable to think of a convincing lie. The words immediately made his face glow.

She looked away and the only sound came from the scrunching of their feet on the gravel path. "We're here."

He let out a relieved breath. What he needed now was some chocolate frogs and a lot of them. They entered the relatively empty shop and found all the various glass bowls were still full. The early risers hadn't made much of a dent and the older students usually only bought small amounts. James grabbed a small bag and proceeded to load a few chocolate frogs and other dark coco flavoured treats. He continued unhurried while carefully deciding what he'll enjoy and by the time he felt satisfied he noticed Lydia, standing by the door with an amused smile, waiting for him. He hurried to pay before joining her by the door.

"What did you get?" she asked, but did not look surprised to see all the chocolates in his bag. "Hmm… all the variations."

He closed the bag, ashamed of all the chocolate he'd bought. "You?"

She opened hers. There were no chocolates only sugary sweets he detested and never bothered to learn the names of. "Not to your liking?" she asked.

"I can't stomach those things, way too sweet."

"Then I won't have to worry about you stealing mine," she replied with a slight bounce to her step.

He hurried after. "You didn't get any chocolate?"

"No," she replied matter-of-factly.

He frowned. "But I thought you liked chocolates."

"I do," she answered.

He shook his head. "Then why didn't you take any."

"Because you like it." Her answer was as cryptic as his mother's and Lily's.

"What does that have to do with what you buy?"

She stopped, forcing him to halt beside. "Simple." She reached out, flipped open his bag, and dipped a hand into it. She then proceeded to draw out one of his frogs and bit off a leg with a satisfied smile. "I just knew yours would taste better."

He narrowed his eyes. "Evil."

She smirked. "I do try."

He reached out, using all the skills of a Seeker he cold muster, and grabbed the frog back and chomped off the head.

"Thief!" she cried out while madly attempting to grab it back.

He stepped back and promptly chomped of a leg. "It's my frog," he proclaimed before finishing the remainder.

She made to stomp on his foot, but quick shuffling saved his toes from her wrath. "Cheat."

"Delicious," he taunted while being more than careful to ensure the bag's safety.

She made another swipe for the bag, but he dodged again and took off for the Quidditch shop. That only elicited another giggle as she wiped some melted chocolate from her lips. "Those frogs really are good."

He pushed open the front door and a bell announced his arrival. Lydia bumped into him from behind, probably not expecting him to suddenly move so slowly. Save for the friendly old man behind the counter the stored proved empty. The man had owned this store for close to thirty years, and the only time he had been away was during the war when James' mother had been at school. James immediately felt at home, the store smelt like fresh leather and oiled wood. A good combination for any Quidditch player. Lydia appeared to have taken a deep breath as well.

"Morning, sir," James greeted. The man was one of the few people in the world who knew who James' parents were. He was freakish, he was almost to a broom what Ollivander was to a wand. The only real difference was that the store owner never made his own brooms.

"Good morning, Mr. Dursley, Miss. Walker," the man replied back. "Just call me when you need some help."

"We will," James replied.

"Is he always that friendly to you?" Lydia asked in a whisper when they were out of sight. "I usually just get a stiff nod and a few prods in the right direction."

James rubbed his neck. The reasons for the friendliness was not something he could really explain. "I just spend a lot of time in here and I've helped him with inventory and stuff."

"When?" she asked, surprised.

"I… um… did some work here last summer." He could hardly say that he helped deliver new brooms and other equipment for Uncle Ron because his sons were too lazy to do their jobs.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I wish I'd thought of doing something like that."

He thanked the stars for his luck as they walked down the first aisle. There wasn't much too see. A few Quaffles, some Bludgers and a couple of Snitches. The aisle, however, led them to where they really wanted to be, the brooms. If the store excelled at stocking one thing then it was brooms. All the best were here. Where there were students there were always wealthy parents.

Lydia interrupted his thoughts. "It's frustrating to see the worst players with the best brooms when I…" She ducked her head. "Well… I guess you noticed."

"A Nimbus Mark IIb," he replied. "Not a bad broom but more than a few generations behind what most students use these days."

"Not to mention a class below." Her mood seemed dampened.

He swallowed, he'd tried to avoid the topic of her broom. The Nimbus Mark series was rather entry level. "But can you fly that broom!" he tried to encourage.

It proved a pleasant surprise to see her eyes sparkling in his direction after the compliment. Being a boy he couldn't stop the slightly foppish grin.

"Thank you," she whispered, but the words faded away as he fixated on a small spot of chocolate stuck to the corner of her lips. "What?" Her voice self-conscious.

He probably should have said something, but his mouth hardly worked at the best of times. His arm lifted and his right hand cupped her cheek. Her body stiffened beneath his hand and her face turned a shade of scarlet. He let his thumb gently caress the offending chocolate from her lips. Her breath caught at the unfamiliar contact. He leaned towards her and pressed his lips against hers. Her body tensed and he knew the madness of the action would haunt him until his dying day.

He pulled away slowly, hand still resting on her cheek as he savoured a touch he would not feel again. "Lydia… I… you… know…" He coughed softly to clear the non-existent obstruction in his throat.

He waited for a slap or cry of outrage, instead a pair of arms wrapped around his neck before pulling him down. This time the kiss lasted longer and gradually grew more intense. Who would have thought that his first and second kiss would in a Quidditch store? He almost laughed, but his mind soon melted into bliss with nothing but Lydia's closeness and soft lips registering.

Someone loudly cleared their throat and the dream ended. He leapt out of her arms and she practically jumped into the next aisle. "Oh… sorry, sir… we were just. Admiring the wonderful collection."

"Despite the years on these eyes I could clearly see what it was that you were admiring." The man actually laughed. "And to think I wandered down to ask if there was a specific broom the young lady would be interested in."

"We were only looking," she replied. "You know I can't afford the brooms on display." Then she eyed James. "Do you need anything?"

The man chuckled. "Mr. Dursley doesn't need to worry about brooms, Miss. Walker."

Lydia nodded, almost angry at herself for the stupid question. "Right, sponsored."

James rubbed his neck awkwardly. There was a slight difference between sponsorship and ownership, but from the world's perspective at the moment it was that same.

"Um… sir," James cleared his throat a plan forming in his mind. "What broom would you say fits Lydia?"

She shuffled a bit awkwardly. "James, there is no point in going through this."

"Of course we do, Miss," the man quickly brushed her hesitation aside. His eyes held a knowing look James often saw shared between his parents. "The store is still quiet and finding the right broom is always exciting, is it not?" The owner dropped his hand into a pocket and removed a measuring tape. It opened and immediately began to go about its business.

"You are just wasting your time on me." Lydia kept on protesting, but raised her arms at the measuring tape's rather forceful shoves.

After a few careful measurements and some consideration the tape dropped to the ground. The store owner scratched his chin, his eyes unfocused in thought. This was not for show, the man worked hard to determine a broom that would bring out the best in any player. Too nimble and an amateur would fall. Too fast and a person would crash. Too slow would hold a flyer back. Then you had to consider the broom's length, the weight and probably a dozen things James didn't even know about. He realised it was something he would need to discuss with his mother at some point.

"You play Chaser?" the owner asked, eyes closing.

"Yes."

"A difficult set of permutations you present, Miss. Walker." His eyes fluttered open and his gaze took a moment to focus. "From the current stock I would think that a Potter Series Two would work well, anything from a Two-One to the newest Two-Five."

Lydia gasped. "Those brooms are almost unheard of and cost a fortune." Her lips began to move rapidly. "There is just no way I'll ever be getting something so expensive. Couldn't you find me a broom that costs at least a twentieth of the price? I mean there has to be something. My mother already broke the bank years ago to get my wand and my father had to work overtime to..."

James blinked and lost track of the words leaving her mouth. He hadn't expected her broom to be the same as his. The Potter Series One and Three were more common and the Nimbus N Series generally fitted most professional players better. If he had not known the owner better James would have thought the man had lied, but like Ollivander he was brutally honest when budgets didn't matter.

"Um… sir, isn't that third spare broom of mine in the back?" James asked, he knew there was no such thing, but one could be sent over in a minute by Portkey.

The owner looked thoughtful then hurried into the back of the store.

"James," Lydia said seriously.

He laughed nervously. "Well… you know… I already have two of those and they sent me a third. Idiot! What would I be needing with three brooms," he scoffed while hoping the charade would work.

"And?" she pushed.

"Well since he thinks it will work well for you I thought that maybe… you know… you would like to have it."

"I can't take your sponsored broom!" she protested loudly.

"Well, the contract states that I can do with them as I please and I already have two in my dorm. It would be a waste to just let the broom lie around."

The owner shuffled back into the view, this time holding a wooden box under his arm. "Shipped right from the maker, masterful creations these. Handmade, these are."

He held out the box to James who took it casually before handing it over to Lydia. "Think of it as an early Christmas gift."

Her eyes grew intense as she stared at him. "Are you crazy? No, you are barmy!"

The owner shook his head and it seemed to soothe her slightly. "No, Miss. He is more than entitled to give you the broom."

Lydia glared, but it held no malice. "Do other people do this with their brooms?"

"James is different from other sponsored players. I hope you enjoy the broom." With that he turned and walked back to his counter and disappeared into the back.

She looked conflicted. So he took a deep breath and said, "Look, Lydia. When you get to know me for long enough then you will learn that giving you this broom is nothing special."

She scoffed at the idea. "You just gave me one of the world's most expensive brooms. Only professionals get brooms like these and this is up there with the best. They're handmade for Merlin's sake."

He decided the focus needed to change. "Do you want to go fly?" he asked. "I should probably give you a couple of pointers."

"I do know how to use a broom," she stated, eyes lingering on the box again.

He nodded. "I know you do, but there are a few things that you should understand about the flight characteristics of that specific broom."

Her expression grew so eager it almost frightened him. That was all the encouragement he needed. Within half-an-hour he stood waiting by the pitch wearing non-descript gear. If his obsessed Uncle had his way then James would always be wearing orange.

Lydia arrived a few minutes later wearing her Ravenclaw Uniform. The broom remained in the dark wood box. She raised an eyebrow. "Orange? Really?"

"Hey!" he protested. "No bad mouthing my team. It's not like I go about bashing the Harpies." Merlin forbid he did, between his mother and Grandmother Gwenog he'd been skinned alive.

Her hand touched his cheek. "You've gone awfully pale. Are you sick?"

"Just had a bad mental picture."

"Were you thinking evil thoughts about the Harpies?" She asked slyly.

"No!" he shrieked. "No," this time more calmly. "I actually love the Harpies."

She snorted. "You probably like that swimsuit calendar."

He shook his head vigorously. His mother had been in those and he'd been forced to charm the one in their dorm to never show December. "Definitely not that."

Of course she didn't believe him. "So are we going to start this?"

James, thankful to move the conversation away from his mother in a two piece swimsuit, eagerly summoned the broom beside him into his outstretched hand. "The sooner the better."

She unclipped the latches on the box and reverently removed the broom. The untouched wood still gleamed in the sunlight. She gasped. "Is that?"

She twisted than handle to show him the golden lettering on the side. Her name had been written onto the wood. James whistled. "He can do those Charms quickly."

Her fingers gently brushed over her name. "It feels…"

"It feels like your broom now, doesn't it." She gave the briefest of acknowledgments. "Before we start I just want to go over a few things." He had her full attention and he once again realised that she indeed belonged to Ravenclaw. They all loved lectures. "Reviews don't really do this broom justice. But I am sure you know that it is something… um different."

"Professional brooms are special with the best Charms."

"Yes and no," James continued while trying hard to remember his father discussing the characteristics of the broom. "The speed Charms yes, but rest are just different. Unlike school grade brooms that are stable and easy to fly professional brooms are unstable and difficult to fly. Stability means a broom wants to fly straight and level. This characteristic means they are slow to change direction. Professional brooms are unstable and hence like to change direction. A lot of your effort will now go into keeping your broom steady and not on turning. It's a similar philosophy used by Muggle aircraft. Passenger craft are stable, the newest fighters are unstable and actually require fancy Muggle technology to keep the things flying level."

"You lost me there, James." She admitted sheepishly. "What's a passenger…"

"Never mind," he interjected. "Forget I mentioned those. Too much information, right?"

She gave a small nod and her lips thinned in concentration. "So those tight turns are about the broom?"

"Yes, but if you give a Potter Two-Five to a pathetic flyer then he'll just crash and break a leg. The Potter One Series has all the speed of the Two, but is stable. It's marketed as the One since people think it's the best and buy it for their kids. It is also used a lot in the Second and Third Divisions. The Three Series is the normal stable and slower broom and basically the upper range of what a School kid should use. The Four and Five series are just cheaper models with fewer charms."

"But League players that use Potter also use the One Series."

James dismissed her words. "No, it's just marketing. They actually use the Two series." He grinned manically. "The unstable and fast broom. A broom reviewers hate because they're not good enough to actually fly it."

Lydia actually paled. "Are you sure this is a good broom for me then?"

James shrugged and climbed onto his broom. "I guess we'll have to find that out for ourselves."

She mounted her new broom and it twitched beneath her. "Merlin! I swear this thing is alive." She couldn't even look up at him. "How do you keep yours so still?"

"Practise. Like I said these brooms want to move about."

Lydia nodded. "I can see what the reviewers were complaining about. It feels possessed."

"Push up slowly and focus on going straight… and relax." Her knuckles went white. "Try to not fight the thing too hard."

She tried, he could tell she did, but within another few heartbeats the broom had flipped her upside down and a piercing, "James!" broke the silence over the pitch.

He tried to not chuckle. "I said don't fight it, that doesn't mean you can relinquish control."

She righted herself with a little bit of effort. "How the bloody hell do they fly these things with no hands?"

James shrugged, he still struggled with that himself. "Experience I guess."

She noticed that he still held the broom with one hand. "You can't let go either?"

His face reddened with embarrassment. "No."

"Forgive me, but that does make me feel… whaah!" she screamed as the broom whipped her around and unceremoniously dumped her on the ground. Luckily they had barely left the ground and this time he burst out laughing.

She quickly leapt onto the back of her broom and drifted into the air. "That… was… not… funny!"

"No… of course not," he managed between chuckles.

Her eyes narrowed. "You'll pay for that one day, Dursley!"

The words sobered him right quickly. Seeing that she was as stable after a few minutes as he was in a week meant that her threat carried more than a little weight. "You seem to be getting the hang of it quickly."

"Quickly?" She jerked about again, but not nearly as violently as before. "We've been up here for almost twenty minutes already."

"Well you're doing great, trust me."

She smiled and her face relaxed. He noticed the slight shift of her hand. Lydia rocketed sideways and slammed into him. They landed in a tangled heap. "Great, huh?" she asked.

With her on top he barely managed a feint. "Brilliant."

"I thought so" she pressed her lips against his. This time no shop keeper interrupted and James was glad of it.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

* * *

Ginny wrapped a dull brown cloak around her. It was cold this far north. It brought back fond memories of flying in the freezing winters of Scotland. Well the memories were not that wonderful, but icy sessions in the sky had proven better than most of her times here.

"Hermione," she greeted the Headmistress and sister-in-law who'd taken over the arduous task of running the school from McGonagall who decided that she preferred being the Head of Gryffindor and Deputy-Headmistress.

Hermione met her at the gate and gave a hug in greeting. The stiff and formal Headmistress persona immediately kicked in again. Even her voice changed. "How are you doing, Ginny?"

"Been better. As I'm sure you're aware of, the team is struggling."

"I guess that is why you are here to see Miss. Walker." Ginny made a face to show Hermione that she had been spouting the obvious. "And how is Harry doing after coming to see me?"

Ginny shivered. "The same old troubles as usual, but he's made some progress with the books you've lent him."

Hermione had that troubled look. "I must say I do not like the topics he wished to learn about." The woman shivered. "Dreadfully dark."

Ginny didn't much care for either. "He's got to understand what they're capable of."

"I sometimes wonder about that philosophy. Is the threat so great?" Hermione asked as the pair began to walk towards the Quidditch stadium.

The packed stands were awash with the noise of cheering students, the merriment of which lifted both their spirits. But the question remained. "I'm not sure, but he looks more troubled now that Draco is stirring even if the man's actions are legal."

Hermione touched her forehead as if remembering a severe pain. "Yes, he has been giving me a headache. He secured his father's seat on the School Board before the Ministry could remove the Malfoys. Ancient laws have more than a few shortcomings."

Ginny winced. "Good luck with that."

"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Sometimes I wish Dumbledore had done more."

"Even he only had so much power."

"I wish that had not been so. I struggle even with all the strings I can pull within the Ministry. Sometimes I wonder how he ever managed so much."

Hermione led Ginny up the winding wooden staircase to the Professors' box. The disguise Ginny wore was so obvious most Professors saw through it immediately, but they knew to keep things discreet. A few barely audible hellos were exchanged before she managed to find a seat. Hermione's timing was perfect as always as the whistle blew barely a minute after they arrived.

Ginny wrapped the cloak tighter around her body as the game slowly began to pick up speed, or as much as a school game could. It always proved hard to believe that she too had flown so slowly. If there had been any doubt about her lack of pace then the memory of Harry defeating her a few dozen times acted as a reminder.

"Are you only looking at Miss. Walker?" Hermione asked after Lydia scored the first goal of the game.

"Yes," Ginny answered truthfully. "But I need to get a good feel of the game to see if she has what it takes."

Hermione faced the game allowing Ginny to focus on a potential Harpy. Lydia's flying was quick and sharp, but she would still require a lot of refinement, a lot. Ginny had heard rumours that the girl had managed to get her hands on a Potter Series Two broom and the twitchiness proved as much. Ginny leaned forwards and rested her elbows on her thighs. It proved difficult to determine just how good the Chaser really was. Being in partial control of a Two Series helped. The dreadful Ravenclaw team, however, did not help Lydia's cause.

Ginny chewed her lip. She would need to have a good talk to Lily and James to find out how Gryffindor managed to allow Ravenclaw to outscore them by a hundred forty. The current game followed a downward spiral that would've turned into a Ravenclaw rout had Lydia not battle the Slytherins alone. Ginny winced knowing the girl would be battered and bruised for a few days. The misery finally ended when the Slytherin Seeker caught the Snitch. Ravenclaw had lost by only one hundred and seventy. A miracle considering the state of Ravenclaw's other two Chasers.

The Professors stood, a few had gleeful smiles the rest looked mournful. Despite the years few older people liked Slytherin. Ginny waited a moment for them to pass and then began the descent down the tower.

"I'm sorry that the game proved disappointing," Hermione tried to make conversation as they walked.

"It's not so bad," Ginny replied. "You get to see a different part of a person's game when they get thumped."

"And?" Hermione pushed as she usually did after one of the scouting sessions. As Headmistress, Hermione always wanted her students to succeed.

Ginny bit her lip. "It's still going to take a lot more thought."

Hermione understood. "Do you want to come up for some tea? I am sure James and Lily would like to see you."

She looked up at her old friend. Her mind still on the game. "What? Oh… tea? No I need to go home to think about the game." Harry's Pensieve would come in handy once again.

"Are you sure? They really do miss you," Hermione smiled and Ginny immediately crumbled. The Headmistress grinned in triumph. "I'll call them as soon as we reach the office."

"Thank you," Ginny said, meaning it. Work interfered with family life too often to let this opportunity slide.

They strode briskly. "Are you at least considering the girl?"

Ginny gave a non-committal shrug. "It's all about fit in the end of the day. Even if she were the best flyer ever she would need to be able to work in a team. And there are other options open to me."

Hermione new the game well enough these days. "And there was no team work today."

"None," Ginny answered with a helpless smile.

Once in the office only Lily replied to the invitation to spend time with Ginny.

* * *

Lydia reached the school after spending over an hour in the shower. Her shoulders had sagged and she stumbled along the pathway.

"How do you feel?" James asked.

She looked up to see him waiting by the bench. She flopped down beside him and leaned forwards to bury her head in her hands "Horrible! Merlin forbid there were scouts today."

An arm wound around her waist and pulled her close. "None that I could see."

When they pulled apart she noticed the slight guilty expression in his eyes. "Are you lying to me, James?"

"No, no scouts." He rubbed the back of his neck.

She let the words slide and rested her head on his shoulder "The score will still tell them that we're hopeless."

"They don't look at school scores." He spoke matter-of-factly.

She turned to him. "And why would they not look at the scores?"

"Unreliable, they identify players then come watch. It's the only way too be sure."

"Still, after today they won't even bother to come look at the Ravenclaw Hufflepuff game next term."

He slipped his hand into hers. "Well at least you can look forward to a warm dinner."

"Will you be there?"

"Of course," he answered with a smile.

"Then it will be bearable, because the moment I walk into that hall the entire school is going to start laughing and pointing."

"We could always just go down to the kitchens," he offered in a slightly unsure voice.

She stopped mid-step. "Wait, you know where the kitchens are?"

He halted as well and ran a hand through his hair. "Um… sort of."

Her hands rested on her hips. "How on earth did you find that out?"

He opened his mouth then closed it again. "That's not really my story to tell, I'm sorry."

A growling stomach and fatigue drove the argument out of her. "I'm coming to realise that you are quite the mystery, James." She sighed. "At the moment, though, I want nothing more than a warm meal away from prying eyes."

"That I can definitely supply."

"You or the house elves?"

"Hey, at least I can lead you to the wondrous world of the elves beneath the Greatest of Halls." He gestured grandly.

She rolled her eyes. "Just lead the way Mr. Dramatic. And don't think this gets you out of the holes you're digging for yourself."

He grimaced, but kept up the façade. "Why thank you, Miss. Walker." He took a few more steps, then his voice grew slightly serious. "But I must ask that you don't share this."

"Why would I give away a secret location where I could go to eat in peace?"

He harrumphed. "Good point."

She followed him down various passageways until he stopped before picture of a bowl of fruit. He glanced up and down the corridor then reached out and tickled one of the pears, actually tickled it. She opened her mouth to say something, but before a single syllable could be uttered a door opened.

"Ladies first." James gestured her through.

She stepped into a world of organised chaos filled with little house elves scurrying about. "This is…"

"The definition of barmy, I know," he said. "But they are quite entertaining to watch."

It took less than a minute to be seated and food to be piled before them. With hunger ruling they dug into the food without talking.

When they finally finished their meals she sat with a glass of water staring at James. "You really don't add up, you know?"

James choked on his milkshake. "Add up?" he coughed out "What do you mean?"

"You only arrive at Hogwarts, what, two and bit years ago, yet you're the only person I know who knows how to get into the kitchens. You're a Muggleborn, but know a lot about Magic and you don't make the same mistakes as other Muggleborns."

"How long have you been studying me, Miss. Walker?" he questioned.

"No, but spending every available hour with you during the past weeks has helped. So what is your story?" She leaned closer to him.

He avoided eye contact and sipped desperately at his milkshake in a hopeless attempt to stall for time. At least it confirmed that his ability to lie was non-existent.

"Umm… well," he stammered.

She clapped her hands together. "I knew it."

He sagged in defeat. "It's nothing bad, really." His voice had grown soft and he looked imploringly at her with his blue eyes.

Lydia thought for a moment, not really liking this. "You're going to tell me eventually?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Not before the year ends..."

Her lips thinned and he immediately held up a hand to stall her reply. "I need to talk to… well… I need to make sure… um… it's complicated…"

"It sounds like you need permission," she stated.

"I don't need permission," he replied honestly. "But I would prefer to get all my ducks in a row before quaking."

The laugh burst forth without thought. "Quacking?" He blushed, but remained silent and waited for her giggles to subside. "Fine, James. Just don't expect me to wait forever."

"This summer, I promise."

She considered his offer. "You'd better. Lies are not conducive to a relationship."

* * *

James leaned window frame, staring out at stars from the Gryffindor Common Room. The cold dreariness of winter had set in with a vengeance after the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match. Snowfalls were more regular and the temperature seemed to be permanently below freezing. It made flying impractical and honestly unenjoyable.

"Itching to go fly?" Lily asked from the cosy seat before the fire.

He turned. She was reading a book, one leg draped over the armrest. Other students sat scattered about the Common Room. Most chatted quietly with only a few working on their studies He pushed away from the cold stone to join her by the fire's warmth.

"No." He answered truthfully. "Too bloody cold."

"Last year you were arguing with the professors to let you practise." She casually flipped a page. "I do wonder what could have changed."

He flopped into a comfortable wingback chair. "There is that." Lily's head snapped up with surprise. "What?" he asked. "I can only deny it so long."

She smirked. "But I expected you to keep on denying it."

He groaned. "Is there really any point?"

"None really, but I'm still surprised you're admitting it."

He reached up and touched the metal necklace around his neck. "You still got yours?"

Lily nodded. "I'd end up grounded for the summer for leaving it lying about."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Dad's really paranoid about it."

"Can you blame him?" She pulled out her necklace with a small emerald pendant. "If even half the stories I've heard from Uncle Ron are true then…" her words trailed off.

"Well those times are over, luckily."

"Lucky us." Lily looked mournfully at her pendant.

He understood. There were so many things they experienced as children that their father never had. They attended a school and grew up with friends, albeit Muggles. They were free from evil monsters and were never once in the public eye.

She forced a smile, probably thinking along the same lines. He really wanted to spend time in Daigon Alley with their mother and father. They'd gone of course, but disguised. Sometimes all he really wanted was to be a Potter and not a Dursley. It might make him arrogant and selfish, but he really wanted to brag about their parents, every kid did.

She glanced down at her Muggle watch. Magical ones made absolutely no sense to either of them. Her face morphed into a somewhat mischievous grin that came from having Weasley blood. "You, my dear brother, are in terrible danger of being late?"

He shook his head, not taking her bait. "I've got a few more minutes."

Lily crossed her arms and huffed. "And if she's early?"

He groaned. At the moment he didn't feel like playing games. "Alright. I get it, already."

Her focus returned to the book. He left the warmth of the Common Room to endure the harsh cold of the corridors. It proved almost enough to abandon the evening rendezvous with Lydia. But, he smiled, there was warmth to be found with Lydia.

He found Lydia twirling hair around her fingers, an unconscious habit he'd noticed. "Sorry for making you wait." He felt stupid as Lily had been right and Lydia had been waiting. "Even with Lily hurrying me out the dorm, I'm still late."

She dropped her hair and returned his smiled. "Well you're still early, I was just earlier."

"Be that as it may, I should've been here earlier."

Lydia giggled then stood on her tiptoes to give him a welcome peck on the lips. "Are you planning on sulking about being late?"

He looked down, ashamed. "No."

"Good, then we can relax and spend time together." Her eyes softened as if she could read the problems he'd been thinking about. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." The word flowed out before his mind could register the reply.

She waited expectantly, but eventually her expression morphed into understanding and acceptance. "Does this have to do with what you won't tell me until summer?"

He nodded. "Mostly that is."

She sighed and he could tell the secrets bothered her. "Any plans for this freezing evening?"

He dug his hands into his pockets. "I've got nothing."

She shook her head. "And to think my fellow Ravenclaws are jealous."

He felt even worse. "Sorry."

She wrapped her arms around his and leaned against his shoulder. "Just teasing." She admitted. "I'm more than happy to wander the halls with you."

He tried hard to hide his surprise. He'd made a point of planning things to do, but tonight his thoughts had drifted too far. "You mean you don't mind not doing something special?"

Her lips parted into a warm smile. "It's nice being spoiled, but sometimes it's nice to just be together. Besides, holding hands with you is special."

He wove his fingers into hers. "Where would you like to wander tonight?"

An hour later, after walking aimlessly and discussing everything and nothing at length they passed the famous tapestry of a man teaching trolls to dance. Lydia shivered. "Sorry, I just realised how cold it is up here."

James gave a triumphant smile. "That just happens to be something I can fix."

She snorted. "You can't conjure to save your life and you are horrible at warming Charms."

"Hey!" he protested.

"Besides, nothing short of tropical beach would do now."

He grinned and began pacing up and down. She eyed him curiously, but Lydia had learned trip to the kitchens to not ask questions. A door appeared and he gestured her through.

"Seriously?" she muttered. "A tropical beach?"

He smiled. "That's what you desired."

"Why am I even surprised?" she said. "I assume this comes from the same source as the kitchens."

He nodded. "My informants are rather well informed about Hogwarts."

Her finger stabbed him in the stomach. "We are going to have a long talk the moment I get you alone this summer, Dursley."

* * *

Ginny was beginning to feel very sorry for the scrunched up scarf held in the clutches of her white knuckled right hand. The Harpies were floundering, so much so that her Seeker would need to catch the Snitch within the half-hour if they were to stay within touch of the Magpies.

"Fly in formation," she growled up at the sky despite knowing her Chasers would never be able to hear. This was the one thing she never really noticed as a player, but as a coach confronted all too many times. The moment the team left the changing room the game was out of the coaches' hands.

"Tough season so far?" the familiar voice of Gwenog asked.

Ginny snorted. "One of the worst."

"You've won some of your games at least," the former coach and semi-mother-in-law replied. "And the other teams struggled so you'll make it through to the semi."

"I don't like winning from behind," Ginny said in an angry voice. "It makes it seem lucky."

"Having a skilled Seeker is nothing to be ashamed of, you know."

Ginny swivelled in her seat, forcing herself to look away from the game for the first time in almost two hours. Gwenog was dressed neatly in her usual Harpies attire, the woman was a fanatic after all. "I know, but you know."

The older woman smiled. "I know." There was a moment's silence broken only by the joyful cheers from the few Magpie supporters in the Harpies stadium. "I assume you have been scouting lately."

Ginny nodded. "I was at Hogwarts a few weeks back. There's a young girl I've taken an interest in."

"Lydia?" Gwenog questioned. Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I do like to remain in the loop, but I am surprised you're not looking at the other leagues. There are some experienced players there."

It was an argument Ginny had debated long and hard with herself. It also included hours of watching replays. "I haven't seen anyone in the Second Division that can replace one of these three."

"Their contracts expire this year, don't they?" Gwenog asked.

Ginny made no immediate reply. The woman obviously knew the answer. "I'm thinking of letting Annabel, Cressida and Zara go."

Gwenog tensed then relaxed. "All three Chasers. You never were one to shy away from hard choices." She laughed. "And they called me cold."

"But you aren't protesting," Ginny pointed out.

"Why would I?" the former coach answered. "They are all excellent flyers, but none of them want to work as part of a team."

"At least my Beaters make up for it."

"Cheryl and Agnes are the backbone of this team of yours and Sandra keeps everything together as Captain."

"And those three Chasers keep mucking up my perfection," Ginny grumbled. "They don't train hard, they don't listen… argh."

Gwenog shook her head. The woman had as much hate for laziness as Ginny. "Any ideas who the new three are going to be? They must be from the League then."

Ginny glanced around her to make sure no one was nearby. "I've got newbies Elisabeth and Claire signed up already. I am just waiting for Jocelyn."

The older woman let out a soft whistle. "You really are going young with the first two. Elisabeth from the Cannons, that'll make Victoria happy. Claire from the Arrows and Jocelyn from the Falcons."

"I'm going to need the talent and experience of Jocelyn to help mould the team if I want to avoid this farce."

Gwenog made no argument. "They should work well together, but I'm surprised the two signed and that Jocelyn is considering the move."

"The Harpies has that allure. All women want to play for us."

Gwenog chuckled. "I'm not sure it's just to play for the Harpies."

"What else would it be?" Ginny asked.

"I think a lot of the younger women want to play for you, Ginny Potter the Legendary Seeker and Coach. The only player ever to have taken a Snitch away from Harry." The woman smiled at the memory. "And from right before his eyes."

Ginny blushed ashamedly. "It was our last cup final against one another and…"

Gwenog shook her head. "The man was in devastating form that year Ginny. You learned and applied that knowledge to not only take the fight to him but surpass him. People saw that."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm nothing special."

"Doesn't it?" Gwenog continued. "Ever since your first year in the league. Dating and then marrying Harry. You became the most adored and hated, I must add, player in the league. The envy of every teenage girl." Gwenog smiled motherly. "You missed it, didn't you? You were too busy." Ginny had no reply. "Every young girl wanted to be you and even now that desire burns within the chests of hundreds of young witches and Muggle girls who know about Quidditch. Rooms are filled with posters of you. Even now the latest magazine has a full page photo of you and Harry."

Ginny scoffed. "That's just my brother..."

Gwenog shook her head. "No, he tries his best to keep you out of the limelight, but there just is something about you, and Harry I suppose, that people want to feel part of."

"I doubt they would want my life," Ginny said softly.

"But they don't know that side of your history. They only see the amazing, beautiful, Ginny Potter. The girl that won the League. The person who beat Harry."

They were still talking when the final whistle blew loudly. Ginny leapt to her feet having forgotten about the game. She sighed with relief at the reason for the whistle. Sandra had managed to take the Snitch, they had won by twenty points. A hollow win which was something her three Chasers never managed to understand.

"I should get to the players," Ginny stated. "It's a long walk from here."

Gwenog didn't protest as they said their farewells. As predicted it took almost ten minutes to reach the changing rooms. The crowds and endless corridors made life difficult at times.

When she finally made it Ginny didn't need to hide her frustration at the sight. Sandra looked exhausted as she sat in the changing room after the game. She wore her uniform and a few beads of sweat still trickled down her cheeks. She was, however, not the reason for Ginny's ire. "I guess Annabel, Cressida and Zara have already left." Sandra gave a tired nod and Ginny understood the feeling. "Looks like you need a rest."

"I'm fine," the young black haired Seeker replied. "I would've liked some more breathing room, but we got there in the end."

Ginny gritted her teeth. "You together with Cheryl and Agnes got us there in the end." Then she took a deep breath. "I should have mentioned this earlier, but I will not be renewing their contracts."

Sandra's nodded. "I thought as much." She pointed towards the showers. "Are you going to tell them?"

"Not yet, but they'll figure it out soon enough."

"Players in mind?" Sandra asked softly.

"They'll be young and inexperienced with one more experienced player."

Sandra leaned back against the wall, head tilted upwards. Her loose hair lay sprawled over her right shoulder. "Can't be worse, can it?"

Ginny sat opposite her. "It better not be."

"But that's not this season's worries is it?"

"No," Ginny answered. "But our biggest games are still coming. We've been fortunate to not loose every game."

Sandra sat motionless and neither did she say a word. They would be facing the Cannons and the Arrows next. The rest of the season was not looking too bright.

"The Cannons' game is a week after Christmas," Sandra said finally. "We'll know where we stand afterwards."

Ginny stood. "Shouldn't you be finishing off? There's no real point in having a team meeting at the moment is there?"

Sandra glanced up. "And why would I want to be going?"

"Don't you have a date with my nephew tonight?" She then changed her voice to mimic James when he was a toddler. "Little Art?"

Sandra straightened. "How did you know? And don't do that voice! And his name is Arthur."

"My family just can't keep their mouths shut." Then she shook her head. "My father is Arthur and Art is Art."

The Seeker chuckled. "Merlin I'm barmy for saying yes to that date."

"Don't worry. Art's been quite persistent. I think he joined Ron's magazine just to get to you."

The Seeker tried to hide her embarrassment. From what Ginny gathered the two really did like each other and their flirting had been going on for months already, but only time would tell if the woman could survive the family.

Ginny stood. "Well get moving."

* * *

A/N

_Thank you once again to Sorcerer's Muse for the time and effort she put into helping with the content of the story. I think we managed to iron out some big wrinkles while also helping to improve my writing overall._

_Thank you also for all the reviews. They really help make this worth the effort, so please take the time to leave a comment._


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